The Troublesome Student
by mushroom-hunter-d
Summary: Corsucant Jedi Academy. Atris is assigned a troublesome student and gets more than she bargained for. Some things go beyond breaking the rules. (Male Exile) COMPLETE
1. Part 1

KOTOR: TSL is owned by LucasArts and Obsidian, not me. I'm not making any money out of this. This story will be completed in two parts. Feedback is appreciated. -D

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Patience. Calm. Be mindful of your thoughts. Do not allow yourself to be angry at Master Vrook for saddling you with one of the most precocious and _noisy_ padawans it has ever been your misfortune to teach.

Atris shook her head and tried to clear her thoughts. What's done is done, and Vrook presumably had his reasons for insisting that she be the one to try and instill some scholarly virtues into the boy.

She hadn't seen Daric for over a year now, but she remembered him. He always had lots of friends, and it was obvious when he attended her lectures on history that he'd much rather have been talking to them that learning about the exploits of dead Jedi. She'd tried to talk to him about it, and he'd flash her that brilliant smile and apologize, only to do the exact same thing next lesson.

It was somewhat of a disappointment to her, as he was obviously pretty bright. Maybe she could do better this time, she thought, but she doubted it. If anything it would probably be worse. Without the other students to distract him he would likely be even more resentful about being cooped up in the Hall of Records.

He was here. He greeted her respectfully, if not enthusiastically, and Atris wondered just what he'd done to be in this position. Atris noted that he'd gotten even taller, and he was fast growing out of his adolescent awkwardness. He'd be around eighteen, she supposed.

Atris showed him his working space in a corner in the hall of records.  
"It's a shame Master Vrook didn't give me any specific instructions with regards to your training." She was irritated at herself for allowing some of her annoyance to cloud her words, but really, how was she going to get any research done with him here?  
"Maybe you're supposed to learn something as well," he said innocently, looking at her from under the dark hair that fell into his eyes.  
Atris's lips tightened in anger, "How dare you be so presumptuous?"  
"It just seems the kind of thing Vrook would do," he backpedaled hopefully.  
"So, you're going to cast aspersions on an absent master to try and get out of trouble are you?"  
He stayed silent; presumably realizing anything he said would make the situation worse. Yet again Atris forced herself to calm down. He seemed to have a knack for saying just the right thing to annoy her, and she had less power to intimidate him than she used to. He looked a little uncomfortable under her scrutiny, but not worried in the least.  
"All right, Daric. Until we decide what you should do with your time here you can make yourself useful and catalogue these datapads."  
"Yes, Master Atris." With a resigned nod he got to work.

The first week passed much as Atris feared it would. Daric worked hard but he never lost the resentful look in his brown eyes. Their routine consisted of a stilted 'good morning' and then a careful avoidance of each other for the rest of the day. It was wearing, to say the least, and Atris despaired of getting any real work done.

"We're polar opposites. He's been pretty quiet, but you can see he'd rather be somewhere else all the time. He'll never be a scholar." Atris and Vash sat in one of the many gardens after a meeting of the Jedi Council.  
"Maybe you should cut him some slack," Vash suggested. "This isn't supposed to be a punishment- for either of you."  
"So he was right? This is for my benefit as well?"  
"We can all benefit from time spent with others. In your case I think some of the other masters were a bit worried that you spend too much time closeted up in the Hall of Records."  
"I don't think inflicting Daric Sandalio on me is the best way to change my mind."  
"Atris-"  
"I know, I suppose I should try and be a bit more lenient. The atmosphere in there is getting rather oppressive."  
"Good luck."

"Daric." Atris swept into the room determinedly.  
"Master Atris?" He looked up from his work with a what-have-I-done-now expression on his face.  
"I think…perhaps we got started on the wrong foot. This isn't supposed to be a punishment," she echoed Vash's words.  
He raised an eyebrow, "So, who told you?"  
She bit back an irritated retort. "Daric, I admit, I viewed this situation a little unjustly, but you have to do your bit as well."  
"All right." He nodded. He still looked a bit skeptical.  
"Well, for a start you can stop cataloguing. And well…what do you think would be the best use of your time?"  
"Training with Master Kavar," he answered.  
"I see," she said shortly. "Perhaps it is a bit much to expect you'd be cooperative after a week in here. Maybe you should take a break. I'll be in my rooms if you think of a more practical answer to my question."

Atris turned and began collecting up items from her desk. She heard Daric turn to leave but when she turned to follow him out she saw he was standing in the doorway with a strange little smile.  
"I'm not five years old; you don't need to give me breaks."  
"You could have fooled me," she replied coolly.  
He laughed and ran his fingers through his hair, "All right, you win."  
"So we can discuss things sensibly now?" Atris couldn't help but feel pride as she saw new respect in his brown eyes.  
He shrugged, "Okay. I don't really have any ideas though."

She suggested they go to the gardens and he readily agreed. To her relief there weren't any other students there. She knew she had trouble building rapport with her students, and didn't want to jeopardize the fragile connection she had with this one. Daric was much more at ease once they got outside and he flopped down on the grass.

Atris sat on a bench nearby and watched the padawan as he pulled a blade of grass in half lengthways.  
"You have no ideas at all?" she asked.  
"No," he looked up at her, "I never found all that stuff very interesting. I don't want to be a consular; they're the ones who have to worry about that stuff."  
"You'd make a good consular. Your ability to bond with others would make you a formidable diplomat. Still, it's not only the consular who has to worry about history. We can all learn from the mistakes of the past. When we learn of others who fell to the dark side we can guard ourselves against the same fate."  
He suddenly sat up and listened more attentively, the grass stem forgotten. "But has learning history really prevented anyone turning to the dark side? The here and now is so much more important and real; history is just what you find on datapads, and how is that different from a holovid?"  
He's given this some serious thought, she realized, and now he's given me something to think about.  
"I know it's difficult to believe, after spending many years sheltered in the academy, but the dark side is not an easy thing to even recognize, let alone guard against. No one sets out to become evil, the greatest of intentions can lead down the dark path, and we need all the help we can get."  
He still looked skeptical. Atris took a deep breath and continued as she began to warm up to her subject.  
"History doesn't just have to be confined to datapads. History can be as recent as the stories you hear from you masters, and history leaves its mark on the Force itself. The past is who and what we are, and we need to understand it to understand ourselves. Take Master Kavar's training for instance. You can learn the technique, but can you really understand it until you know its history, its origins?"  
"You can practice it in the real world."  
"Would it make a difference to you if I told you that some of the fighting styles people, not just Jedi, use today originated with the Sith?"  
His eyes widened, "Well, yeah, I guess it would. Which styles?" he asked eagerly.  
Atris shook her head, "There are Sith fighting styles, but they guarded their knowledge with a paranoid zeal- that is the way of the Sith. If they are truly the origin of any current techniques that piece of history has been lost."  
"But you said-"  
"Did I?"  
He frowned and thought back over her words, "No, I guess you didn't."

Atris looked around; it came as a bit of a shock to see that the sun was already setting. Daric looked up thoughtfully at the first few stars that were winking in the dusk and Atris watched him for a few moments.  
"I should probably let you go and have dinner with the other students. I believe this afternoon has been most instructive. I'll see you tomorrow, Daric."  
"Yes, Master Atris." He nodded respectfully and dashed off, presumably realizing just how hungry he was.

The next morning Atris worked out a new routine. She seemed to have sparked Daric's interest in the origins of fighting styles, and she decided there were worse topics to do research projects on. Most of the Jedi Masters couched their treatises on fighting in an abstruse and philosophical manner, and Atris supposed he'd pick up some of their spiritual ideas by osmosis if nothing else.

So, in the mornings Daric would sit at one of the study tables and read and take notes, and in the afternoons he'd go and see Master Kavar and train. Occasionally Atris would put her research aside and walk with him to the gardens. He liked hearing her talk about history, although she wasn't sure how well she was convincing him of its importance.

She grew used to his presence. She found herself smiling when she looked over and saw him absorbed in his studies, his face lit by the glow of the datapads. What the other Masters had told her of him was true, she reflected, he formed bonds with amazing ease. Sometimes, she knew, he spent the afternoon with his friends rather than Kavar, although she had heard him refer to the Master as a friend more than once. She found herself wondering what he thought of her.

"You'll be a Jedi Knight soon," Atris remarked one afternoon as they sat in the Hall of a Thousand Fountains.  
Daric ran his tanned fingers through the water as he gazed at the fish that floated lazily in the fountain, just out of reach, "I know. It's a little hard to believe. I'm sure I'll pass all my tests though."  
"I'm sure you will. Had you given any thought as to what you'll do afterwards?"  
"I want to be a Jedi sentinel."  
Atris nodded, this didn't surprise her. Despite his diligent training Master Kavar had told her that he did much better when he used a combination of Force powers and melee attacks.  
"That wasn't quite what I meant though. Have you given any thought as to what you'll do when you leave the academy?"  
"Yes, but it hasn't helped," he admitted. "I don't really know what's out there, but I want to make a difference. I want to make things better."  
"An admirable goal. Just don't try and take on all the troubles in the galaxy at once."  
"That's all?" he asked.  
"What do you mean?"  
"I wondered if you had a specific reason for bringing the topic up."  
Am I that easy to read? Atris wondered. I suppose it shouldn't surprise me, he always knew how to get under my skin before; this is no different really. Just as long as he didn't find out anything she didn't want him to know.  
"Well, yes. I just wanted to make a suggestion to you. Have you ever considered becoming a teacher?"  
"A Master like you?"  
"I think you'd be very good at it. Master Kavar says you work well when you spar with the younger students. Your ability to connect with people; you're far better at it that I'll ever be," she admitted.  
"You're not _that_ bad. I mean, pretty much everyone can remember the last ten masters of the academy and the year when-"  
"Teaching is much more than that and you know it."  
"You really care about history, Atris. I can see that. When you talk about it it's so obvious."  
"When I'm talking to you maybe," she pointed out. "I don't recall you being so fascinated during my classes. It's you that brings out the best in me- in people," she finished hurriedly, a faint blush spreading across her cheeks.  
To her relief, it appeared Daric hadn't noticed, "But teaching involves so much responsibility." He leaned back until he could look at her upside down, "Or are you going to tell me I'm responsible as well, and devilishly handsome to boot."  
She couldn't suppress a smile, "I didn't mean immediately. You should go out and see the galaxy a bit first. I haven't seen as much as I'd have liked to. Responsibility will come in time, or it won't, and then you won't become a teacher. It's just a suggestion."  
"Hmmm," he straightened and looked back at the fountain. "I'll bear it in mind." He was silent for a few moments and then, "So…_do_ you think I'm handsome?"  
"Wouldn't you be better off asking one of your peers?"  
"Oh _them_," he waved his hand dismissively, "I already know they think I'm handsome."  
"I take it back," she replied, "You'd make a terrible teacher. You can't be serious for more than five minutes at a stretch."  
He laughed and got to his feet, "I need to talk to Master Vash about the exams."  
"All right then, ask _her_ if she thinks you're handsome. I'll see you tomorrow."

It wasn't until after his footsteps had faded that Atris realized how carefully she was dodging his question. This revelation shook her as she realized just how close they were becoming. He was dropping the 'Master' before her name more and more often, and she didn't mind. It was impossible and ridiculous. Especially when she thought back to the warnings she occasionally threw Kavar's way about the girls who always arrived early to his classes.

He was young; it was only to be expected that he could get…confused about relationships. But she was old, older than enough to know better. He was forbidden on so many levels, and she had to admit she found it entrancing. The first time he'd laughed in her presence, the way he'd run his fingernail against his bottom lip when he was reading, the fire and passion in his form when he was sparring- I can't believe it, I'm stalking my own student! Atris thought rather hysterically.

Face crimson with embarrassment she retreated to her rooms for the rest of the day, trying to meditate away the question that echoed in her head.

_Do you think I'm handsome? Indescribably so._


	2. Part 2

A/N: I've gotten a couple reviews about my formatting for this story. This story is dialogue heavy and default formatting is pretty horrible. However, it is incorrect to start a new paragraph with every new speaker and it means I lose my genuine paragraph breaks. Please don't strain your eyes on my account; try hitting the 'B' up in the corner of the screen to enlarge the text. You can change the font as well.

As for the sheer number of reviews; wow. Thanks guys. This is the final part of this story. I'd like to write more in this pairing but I just need to finish the game again first; I want to try out more dialogue options with Atris. -D

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A week later Atris sought out Daric on the grassy slopes outside the academy. It was after the first batch of exams, and the majority of the students were outside, either dissecting their experiences or trying their best to forget them. 

Daric was clowning around in a large group of his peers, walking around on his hands. Atris bit her lip as she watched the way his shirt fell around his head, exposing his lean, tanned torso. One of his friends gave him a shove and he overbalanced, his attempt to steady himself resulting in an undignified tumble into the grass. A Twi'lek girl, presumably the one who he was trying to impress, leapt to her feet and did a graceful series of back flips to the approving cheers of her audience.

Daric good-naturedly rebuffed the insults that were tossed his way by his friends, declaring loudly that at least he'd passed his exam and handstands weren't on the curriculum, and besides, he was cheated.  
"Famous last words, Daric," he was reminded.

The talk died away as the students noticed Atris approach. Daric got to his feet as the other students nodded respectfully to her.  
"Don't worry, I haven't got any extra work for you," she said.  
"Do you have our results?" One of the more confident, or more worried, students asked. Atris shook her head.

Atris led them a little way from the other students, "I have to go to Dantooine-"  
"Really? So I can go back to Dantooine for a while?"  
Atris blinked in surprise, for she had expected him to be pleased to get a few days off, not ask if he could go too. "Well, yes, if you really want to."  
"Oh excellent, thanks, Atris." He grinned at her and went back to his friends, cutting the conversation so abruptly Atris wondered if he expected her to change her mind.

It was only when she was in the midst of packing that Atris realized why he was so keen to go back. Revan. From what she understood the two had been close back on Dantooine, and it occurred to her for the first time that maybe that was why Daric was sent all the way to Corsucant to study under her.

Revan was a year or so older than Daric, and was a brilliant student. Her masters had high hopes for her; her devotion to helping others was often held up as an example to the other students. She had a certain disregard for the rules that Atris disapproved of, and Daric had been her shadow during the time Atris had taught them history on Dantooine. It now seemed more likely that Vrook had deliberately removed Daric from her influence.

Atris decided that there were important lessons for Daric to learn here, and so she had no problems with allowing him to accompany her to Dantooine. Aside from the obvious of course; they'd be in close contact for the duration of their trip. No, Atris decided, she'd resolved that. She was perfectly fine. Completely.

To Atris's relief, the trip was uneventful. Daric spent most of his time meditating, and they weren't the only passengers on board. When they arrived at Dantooine Atris went to talk to the other masters and Daric went off to look for his friends.

That evening Atris sat at the desk in her guest quarters and watched a news holodisc and wondered why she felt so uneasy about the galaxy. She had seen Daric briefly at dinner, and he hadn't looked terribly happy either. She sensed someone approach, and it took nearly no effort on her part to expand her awareness and identify Daric as her visitor.

She turned and the door opened just as Daric was raising his hand to knock.  
"I can't sneak up on you, can I?"  
"Were you intending to?"  
"Well, no."  
"What do you want to talk about, Daric? Revan?"  
"Yeah, no. Well, kind of." He sat in a chair across from hers and she waited patiently while he collected his thoughts. "She's just so different now."  
"It's called growing up; you may not know it, but you're different as well."  
"Yeah, I know all that. But she and Malak- aww, I shouldn't even be talking to you."  
"I'm honored that you came to me, and I won't betray your trust. I can't speak for Revan- it's been a long time since I last saw her, but the rules are there for a reason."  
"You're not going to get her in trouble, are you?"  
"I told you, no. She's not my student, you are. What seems so important when you're a teenager a few years later can be-"  
"Silly?"  
"You said it, not me."  
"I still think the rules are stupid," he declared.  
"Every padawan does," she said dryly. "The rules do get broken, and we know this. It's keeping the rule-breaking to a minimum that's important."  
He heaved a sigh, "Well, Revan and I, we're friends now," he said, as if they had ever been anything else.  
"I'm glad," she said understandingly, hiding her shock and shame at the relief she felt.  
"I should go to bed." He stood, "Thank you, for listening I mean."  
"That's what we're here for."

He paused in the doorway, "Have you ever been tempted to break the rules?"  
"Everyone has," she replied.  
"Did you?" His gaze was frighteningly direct, and serious.  
"No." Not yet, she thought.  
"Are you?"  
"What?" She could feel her heart start to pound. He looked nervous but there was a determination in his stance. She could sense the need behind his words as the air between them thickened with meaning. She had to put an end to this; he had picked up on her feelings somehow. She was pulling together the phrases for a diplomatic denial when his gaze dropped and he smiled somewhat ruefully.  
"I'm sorry; I ask too many personal questions."  
"Yes, you do, rather." She was still too unsettled to sound angry; she just wanted him to go away. Now. "Goodnight Daric"  
"Sleep well." He turned and was gone.

Atris put her head in her hands and tried to sort out just what had gone wrong. She couldn't help it; despite everything she felt elated that in some way he returned her feelings. It had made everything a million times more complicated, now it was likely she'd have to hurt him to end this …this _thing_, and yet it made her want to smile and sigh like a girl.

She didn't, of course. She used every meditation technique she could remember and calmed herself down. She was a Jedi Master, a teacher, the Keeper of Records, and for a surprising length of time, she remained just that.

Daric now only worked on his project every few days, as he was completing his tests. By unspoken agreement they kept their interactions to a minimum, but on the day before his final test that would mark him worthy to carry a lightsaber Daric came to turn in his project.

Atris thanked him, "Hopefully this will satisfy Master Vrook. He seems quite pleased with himself about how it all turned out."  
"Shows what he knows," Daric said under his breath. Atris pretended not to hear him.  
"You're a good student, and I have no doubt you'll make a fine Jedi. I wish you well on your final exam."  
"Speaking of which..." He cocked his head to the side hopefully.  
"No, I'm not going to tell you what it entails." She smiled, and for the first time since Dantooine she felt at ease in his presence.  
"You can't give me a little clue as to what it's going to be?"  
She laughed, "Sorry, that's against the rules." Mentioning the rules brewed an awkward silence between them.

After a moment's silence a slow smile spread across his face, "Say, do you want to fight? It'll be your last chance before I build my lightsaber."  
"Owning a lightsaber won't make you a better fighter, you know."  
"Is that a no?" His dark eyes glittered, his gaze challenging and direct.  
"I'm not afraid of you." She pushed her chair back and stood. She was aware that she was playing with fire here, but some prideful part of her wanted to test herself. This was probably going to be the last time they would ever meet in the academy; it was her duty as a teacher to put an end to all of this, even if she had to beat it through his thick skull.

She wanted to see him fight one more time. She wanted him to lose, to prove to herself that she was stronger than him, that she could resist.

She wanted to dance with him.

They found an unoccupied training room and Atris quickly went back over all her lightsaber training in her head; it had been a while since she had experienced any combat.

Daric selected a double-bladed sword and did a quick warm-up. They slid into fighting stances and the battle began. He had youth and strength on his side, not to mention all the training he'd been doing recently. Atris found herself increasingly on the defensive, being forced back. She summoned her force powers and pushed.

The look of surprise on his face was comical as he landed sprawling on the training mat. He rolled out of the way of Atris's next swing and sprung to his feet.  
"Hey, you didn't say we could use our powers!"  
"I didn't say we couldn't, either," she replied.

The fight resumed on a more equal footing, for Atris resisted any mind tricks that Daric tried to play on her. They circled the ring, Atris waiting for the right moment to use the Force again, Daric trying to break through her defenses with aggressive attacks. An opening; his strong offensive style was tiring him faster than her defensive position. Atris pushed him back again and followed through without missing a beat.

Daric fell down and brought up his sword in a defensive move. Atris ended up on top of him, pushing down with her lightsaber with all her strength. They stayed like that for a few seconds, their breath rasping in their throats.  
"You win," Daric said finally. When Atris released the pressure on his blade he tossed it away.

Atris switched off her lightsaber and let herself relax. "I think," she panted, "I'm a little out of practice. I should probably tell Master Kavar I need a refresher course."  
"We could always do this again." Her eyes widened as his hands came up and gently wrapped around her upper arms. "Atris."  
Her face heated up as she realized the position they were in. She looked down at her fingers splayed across his chest and shook her head.  
"No, Daric," she choked out, "We are…student and master. This is beyond breaking the rules…this is, unfair. Fundamentally unfair."  
"Okay." He let out the breath he'd been holding, "Okay," he repeated and he released his hold on her arms.

She was a bit surprised at his capitulation, but lost no time in rolling off him and getting to her feet. She smoothed her robes down awkwardly as he picked himself up off the floor.  
"I'm sorry-" she began.  
"Don't be," he said as he headed for the door, "we're only human after all."

She didn't see him again until his graduation. She was there with the other masters for the ceremony, although she didn't have to make a speech. His Jedi robes suited him well, and he wore them like he knew it. Someone had prevailed upon him to cut his hair, although she guessed it was still only a few weeks away from falling into his eyes again.

They were all so young and proud and hopeful, and Atris couldn't help but quietly share their joy. Still, she couldn't bring herself to quite meet his eyes.

Some of the more studious of her ex-students came up to her after the graduation to pay their respects. She appreciated it, although Master Kavar looked a little put-upon at the center of an enthusiastic bunch of young Jedi. She saw Daric in a group showing off their lightsabers. He had indeed graduated as a sentinel, but his double-blades glowed a brilliant orange. She guessed Revan had supplied the unusual crystal.

He didn't come up and talk to her. She felt relieved, to be honest, but she also felt a bit rejected as well. He seemed to have taken her refusal a lot better than she had. Maybe it hadn't meant much to him after all, she thought, ungrateful little- she indulged in a bit of unjustified irritation, just has she had all those…was it only months ago?

"You took your time."  
Her breath caught in her throat. He was waiting for her, leaning against the wall near her door.  
"Why are you looking so surprised?" he grinned. "We graduates owe it all to our teachers, the least we could do is thank them."  
"So Master Vrook is getting a visit as well?" she asked, surprised by the lightness of her tone.  
"I've already told him what I think of him," he said darkly.  
"You didn't!"  
He laughed, "No. I thought about it, but I restrained myself. I think he has a fair idea anyway."  
"Well…" she trailed off, unsure what to say.  
"Atris." He pushed himself off the wall and walked towards her, "you are no longer my teacher."  
She frowned at his approach, "Well, not _officially_-"  
"Exactly. Although unofficially I wouldn't be adverse to learning some new things." His grin turned somewhat predatory.  
"Look, Daric, I'm not quite sure what you-"

He kissed her. He rested his hands on her shoulders and bent his head to press his lips against hers. And she found herself kissing him back. He was everything she'd imagined; strong and sweet and dark. She wound her arms around his neck as he backed towards her door and she reflected that this had to be too good to last.

Like most things Atris thought, it turned out to be true.

End


End file.
